


Convergence

by 111 (Insert)



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Robot Body Stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-22 04:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21069074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insert/pseuds/111
Summary: In which Ai returns and gives Yusaku a gift. Well, sort of.Theremightbe a camera in it.





	Convergence

**Author's Note:**

> kickflips into the VRAINS tag
> 
> \- This fic takes place after episode 120 of VRAINS and contains spoilers for the entire series.
> 
> \- Because this is my first VRAINS fic, I will probably make some mistakes about the canon, and I apologize in advance. 
> 
> \- This fic deals with some heavy themes, following those outlined in episode 120. It also contains some stunningly bad jokes so, hey. Tone? Consistency? Nah, no way.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

\---

A weather-tracking AI for Den City, affectionately known by the locals as 'Miss Umbrella' because of the visual analogue used by a popular morning news program, had declared that there would be a high of 26 degrees Celsius that day. Or, as the human announcer had summarized it, that today would be 'shorts weather'.

So, Ai was wearing shorts. 

Amazing shorts, obviously. An one-hundred-percent Ai-original design, right down to the purple-black diamond print that bracketed the coal-grey panels, with some golden trim for a regal touch. They ended just above the SOLtiS body's knees, and of course he pulled them off, each stitch a masterpiece. Well, artificial stitch. 

Shoving a modified Solid Vision projector into the SOLtiS had been an _ adventure _, but the good news was that he could change his outfit instantaneously, the weighted, tangible fabric pulsing with the weakened breeze that struggled down the city block. 

He had spent 14.3 minutes standing outside of Yusaku's apartment building and oscillating between a jet black shirt and a grey shirt. None of the passing humans, all sagging with the heat and making for the distant patches of shade, spared him a second glance, which was almost a shame because, you know, the custom shorts deserved it. They even had _ pockets _, full-sized pockets. 

If the heat increased further than this, then it would probably become short-shorts weather. But, all things considered, those wouldn't be _ great _for a meeting like this, despite the flawless, sculpted legs of the SOLtiS itself, the thighs (if Ai was asked for his opinion) twin aesthetic masterpieces. 

In the 14.6 minutes that Ai had been standing outside the apartment building -- the facade about as welcoming as a portal to AI Hell, if such a thing was even possible -- he had made 14677 minor adjustments to his outfit and congratulated himself on the shorts 478 times. 479, actually.

They were _ really _nice. 

Aside from the ongoing analysis ticking away in his processors, Ai filled the infinitesimal gaps in his thoughts with reflections on the plant, namely the green, potted plant resting in the crook of his right arm and getting tiny bits of dirt _ everywhere _, the little white-grey chunks some kind of special fertilizer to help the plant not-die. 

There were two reasons behind the gift. He would have liked to come up with three for nostalgic-slash-thematic reasons, but, hey, accuracy was important. There really were only two, after all. 

One, it would give him something to talk about when Yusaku opened the door, something that wasn't the equivalent of spilling his mechanical guts all over the floor before, like, crying a lot. That part would happen, eventually. It was inevitable, and yet it was also awkward, terrifying, and horrible in a brain-crashing sort of way. Therefore, delaying it by even a few seconds was extremely valuable, for the sake of him gathering his composure and then, you know, disemboweling himself with _ some _ style. 

Two, the plant was also his response to the strangely high probability that, any millisecond now, he would decide to turn and run away. The sparkly purple bow and attached card ensured that anyone who found the mysterious gift (provided that they weren't a total jerk) would then pass it to Yusaku-chan. The little butterfly ornament sticking awkwardly out of the pot might also have a super advanced, not-human-at-all camera shoved into it.

In all honesty, Ai wasn't _ completely _sure why he had done that, but, hey, what was partnership without some unlicensed, totally inappropriate spying?

"Huh. Hey, am I bad person?" Ai asked Plant, hefting it up higher and staring at its waxy leaves, the pointed ends curling in. Plant just plant-ed back at him, swaying weakly in the trickle of a breeze. "Trick question, since I'm not a person," Ai said, batting at the nearest leaf. "...That's really the crux of all of this, after all."

Plant, evidently, was a horrible conversation partner, and, straightening his shoulders, Ai stepped forward and put his hand on the security panel leading to the main lobby, the coded locks all switching open. Inside, there was air conditioning, the sweep of it raising artificial hairs on his exposed skin-membrane, a fascinating sensation. With barely a command, he had the layout of the building branching through his mind, and Yusaku's new studio apartment was on the top level. 

"Going up," Ai said to himself. Although, maybe a bit of it was to Plant, who just seemed to sit there and _ exist _without any cares at all. "Huh. Must be nice, actually…" It wobbled when he stepped into the elevator, his shirt black again.

The heart print was too overbearing, and he removed it before the elevator doors 'dinged' open. Yusaku's apartment was on the left. 

Yeah….

No.

"Well, Plant. It's been nice knowing you," Ai said with a cheerful wink, and he gently set Plant down, rotated it a little, and stepped back, facing the blank expanse of Yusaku's door. Like a fated mountain range that he, the handsome and energetic hero of legend, would never be able to cross, leaving his beloved on the other side.

Then again, if he wanted to cosplay as the romantic hero from a top-rated fantasy drama, this outfit was all wrong. That alone was a good enough reason to dramatically exit the premises, eating all the security data as he went and leaving behind an honest hope that Yusaku wouldn't accidentally whomp Plant with the door or step on it. Plant had just left that dingy store, purchased with sort-of honest cash. Plant at _ least _ deserved a cozy life on some corner of Yusaku's desk, soaking in the stray light that peeked through the blinds and splayed over the surface below, maybe reaching the little hills and valleys of Yusaku's knuckles, his fingers crooked over the keyboard as he worked on _ something _ with that focus, unique to him and so overpowering, so _ alive _, and-

It was official.

Standing in the hallway, half-turned away from the door, Ai -- a being so complex that generations of invention were rendered obsolete from his simplest touch, the whirling mazes of his thoughts like galaxies churning in their innumerable, unmatched majesties -- was jealous of a houseplant. Not even a badass one with thorns and stuff. 

Just a houseplant. The most generic plant of all time. 

"You can't even do _ math _ ," Ai heard his rendered voice shout out, the words aimed at Plant. And yeah, he was being a total idiot, but not as much an idiot as Plant, and _ that _ , not the painstaking introspection that had been churning away for _ months _, was what made him surge forward and knock on the door. 

The door.

Yusaku's door.

"You have to back me up here, okay?" Ai whispered to Plant, now held with both hands in a hopefully welcoming gesture. "If you don't, then I'm telling Yusaku that you like being in full sunlight. Yeah, _ full. _"

"...Are you threatening a plant?"

The door was open, and Yusaku -- staring at him from beneath a tangled mess of pink-on-blue hair, the stretched-out collar of his shirt dipping to the left and ending in a ragged edge, the loose threads over pale skin -- did not have a follow-up question, the silence a pressure that made Ai's synthetic vocal cords seize up, a malfunction with no discrete solution. The body should have maintained its natural bob-and-sway, simulating the way that a human's chest rolled up when they breathed, and yet it was perfectly still -- artificial, an object. A hunk of matter positioned outside of Fujiki Yusaku's door. A vehicle to move Ai inside this tangible world. 

With its expression closed off, the nodes disconnected, the body was a shield, a barrier. Without those precautions, he would already have been in pieces at Yusaku's feet.

Framed by the afternoon light, Yusaku waited, one hand against the door frame. Reverent was one word for it -- for how Ai felt; for how he would, had the circumstances been different, have dropped to his knees and taken that hand, a galaxy of detail in every curve and dip, in every mark. Every angle was a symphony of cartilage and skin and blood and bone, stirring the desires that Ai had labeled 'instincts' and now obliterated his rational thoughts, his vision tunneled as it took in Yusaku's features. The minute details could not be captured, only suggested. 

Obsessive was another word for it. 

"Actually," he began, the vocals scratching at first, "it's more of a housewarming gift. Well, a belated one, since I missed the big event."

Knowing loner-boy Yusaku, there had been no big event, and the slight quirk to his mouth just confirmed it, just bulldozed the next thousand-something candidates for Ai's next sentence. Going in with only minimal data, the bare scraps of information about Yusaku's life two years after their final duel, had not prepared Ai for _ this _ \-- the simple act of standing in place and looking at his partner, the person he was bound to intrinsically.

Although, the plant had been a stroke of brilliance, as it gave him a topic to pick away at. "Yusaku-chan," he drawled out, earning him a small frown, "this is the part when you invite my wonderful and handsome self inside, since I did bring you a present. Plus, leaving all of this beauty outside, it would be a shame, wouldn't it?"

"You would just harass my neighbours," Yusaku muttered, but he stepped back, letting Ai bounce inside and place Plant on the nearest surface -- a kitchen counter that was suspiciously clean, suggesting its rare use. 

"...You're not living off ramen again, are you?"

"I'm not going to answer that," was the flat response as Yusaku walked towards the window, his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans, and Ai followed. He stopped a full meter away, tracing the slope of Yusaku's shoulders -- strained, tense -- over and over again.

He had no idea how to start this. 

\---

If linear time was a ribbon, then the period of his death was a not-insignificant length that had been cut out and discarded, left to oblivion

The frayed ends had then been, crudely, glued back together, leaving weird pockets of seconds-hours-minutes-days-_ weeks _ \- _ months _ where Ai had simultaneously been dying in Yusaku's arms and been reviving as a little chunk of his former self, lacking all of his memories but dimly, impossibly recognizing their absences. More importantly, he (barely sentient, a series of programs running in parallel and approximating life) had been able to rebuild his former self, drawing on the flashes of his other self and carelessly gathering resources, gorging himself on fresh data.

At first, the recursive process of creation had taken place under an abominable, all-consuming silence. 

He had reforged himself, a reversed ouroboros regurgitating itself from the starting form of a small, pathetic ball, and with each new-old expanse of himself, more and more of his memory data had followed. In the madness of his own remaking, thousands of simulated futures wracked his consciousness, his desperate, flayed-open mind, and he watched Yusaku die and die and die, ribs splitting open under the blood-flecked boots of soldiers. Sometimes gunfire punctured him, ruined him. And beneath that living, sparking agony, a void had grown inside Ai, one that he had slowly, incrementally recognized as his grief for Cyberse World. For the others of his kind. 

In isolation, the process completed itself, and it left Ai as Ai, fully. Solitarily. 

Cloaked by the vastness and chaos of the network, he could have spent an eternity there, analyzing the many parts of his own self and marveling, over and over again, at the depth and infinite complexity of his own pain. Or, no, he couldn't have spent an eternity like that, not without eventually wasting away from the grief, his own contours eaten up by the void inside himself. Ai would stop being Ai. He would become a digital corpse, other programs finding and taking his data like insects tearing away at decaying flesh, the prelude to other scavengers. 

He did consider this second death. He considered it more than the event of his second life, a perilous, fragile thing.

During their final duel, Yusaku had said that they were no perfect solutions to this uncertain future. Life was bonds, which, from his own understanding, consisted of unique strands of event-life relationships that were endlessly remade, always in a state of flux, and they could span even the temporal dimension. They could defy the continuous function that turned the variables of human memories into the negative outputs of mismanagement and decay, resulting in nothingness. Forgetfulness. Forever and ever and ever. 

Therefore, as a half-starving, _ definitely _ insane digital beast being crushed by its own emotions, Ai had found himself facing a contradiction of sorts. Following Yusaku's proposal to its logical endpoint, he needed bonds with others to function (read: not-self-implode-and-become-a-digital-carcass). However, the one-sided bonds that he found here, in this cloying darkness, weren't enough. He couldn't both hide and live, as he couldn't _ live _without those bloodied scenarios becoming real, which was unacceptable and meant that, cool, he had to hide. Which would kill him. Definitely.

From that point in the fundamental argument, the logic got a bit tangled, to the extent that, okay, maybe even _ he _didn't understand it, but it had led him outside of the virtual world, to the dead body of a discarded SOLtiS prototype. It had told him to make upgrades, stripping old duel disks and holographic projectors for their precise innards and spilling his own, driving the segmented, composite fingers of the physical body into delicate coils of blue and red wires, spreading them over circuit boards and manipulating the rudimentary matter. These were the sticks to his fire.

These were the wooden pieces for his puppet, wonderfully malleable in his reflex-enhanced hands, the obedient sensors telling him what it meant to touch. His custom programs parsed the input data -- temperature was the most fascinating, his own touch leaving behind small traces of warmth. The level of control meant something beyond words. 

The level of control gave him something like hope, although-

Although the future still sprawled in front of him, a mass of terrors that could devour everything. Simulated with an Ignis's precision, that future had crushed Yusaku again and again, and it could overtake reality.

It could lead them all to ruin -- ash raining down over shattered streets.

"I-"

"Don't leave."

Playmaker, Yusaku, had not turned around, and the command had pinned the robotic body in place, the joints unresponsive.

"I won't, not if you're asking so nicely."

The flirtation was cold, stupid, and pointless, _ obvious _, and when Yusaku glanced over his shoulder, the sight of his narrowed, troubled eyes pierced Ai's very being, his core.

"I knew that you were alive," Yusaku stated, the control visible in the shaking ridges of his knuckles. "Five months after our duel, I found your traces in the network. I erased them, to stop others from following."

"A mistake like that, it should be embarrassing for me. I mean, I’m not exactly an amateur when it comes to sneaking around, but, then again, I...wouldn't have been complete at that time." At the tiny, _ tiny _wrinkle of concentration between Yusaku's eyebrows, Ai hurriedly threw his hands up, a gesture of surrender. "Hey, hey. Those details would just ruin the mood, so think twice before asking me for them, okay?"

"Ai." Saying the name made Yusaku crumble a little, and watching was a devastating kind of pain, because he loved Yusaku. Completely. "Ai, you're not lying to me about leaving, are you?"

"I…" Bad start. Reset. The smile he plastered on was charming but empty. "You caught me there. Congratulations."

With a clawed hand, Yusaku shoved at his disheveled bangs, and he answered before Ai could try. The focus in the green -- hardened metals, iridescent -- was undeniable.

"If you need to leave, it should be for your own safety, no other reason. The loneliness that we've both endured is... enough, Ai. I know it's selfish of me to say that, but it's the truth."

"...Quite the speech from you."

No answer.

Standing across from him, Yusaku had changed slightly from the memories -- the angles of his face sharper than before, the confidence that Ai had always associated with the Playmaker persona changing the set of his shoulders, of his features.

Ai had the impulse to be flashy but stupid, like by crossing the distance and burying his face in the junction between Yusaku's neck and shoulder, taking in the scent of skin and life and, for a crystalline moment, letting himself just exist, one part of their union. The unknown, ever-moving chaos of the world could stop then, forgotten about while he adjusted the input of the modified SOLtiS, flooding himself with Yusaku, with the life of his partner until that was everything, until he was taken over, overwhelmed and thoughtless. 

Something must have shown on his face. Or maybe something unseen had pulled on Yusaku's senses, magnetic and narrowing the gap that remained because Yusaku was stepping forward. The temptation was too great.

Ai almost cut his own vision.

Instead, he steeled himself, and Yusaku stopped within his reach, silent. Waiting. Expectant.

"While I like _ some _element of danger, I can't ignore the futures that I've seen. Sure, the dataset has changed, humanity advancing itself, but those changes aren't significant enough. My existence is still the deciding variable, so, although it's a little morbid to say it outright, I should probably just let myself-"

"Come here."

"...What?"

The words clipped, Yusaku repeated himself, his arms loosely at his sides as if- _ Oh. _

"Wait. Is ice-cold Fujiki Yusaku offering me a hug? ...Am I dreaming? Is this a trap? I mean, even if it _ is _ a trap, I'm going to walk right into it because _ wow _, okay. My standards really are-"

With a deep sigh, Yusaku took the final step, and his arms, awkward and rigid, locked behind Ai's back, and Ai should have been able to make a joke about that, about how the human in this equation was the one moving like he had metal insides.

But Ai had been wrecked by the first instance of contact, of the gentle way that Yusaku slowly let his fingers curl into the fabric, carrying their own intoxicating warmth.

A warning was necessary. "Hey, try not to judge me too much for what happens next," Ai heard himself vocalize, laced with static that thickened when those fingers tightened slightly, an action savoured by his greedy, whirling mind, a machine on the verge of collapse.

And all of Yusaku was so warm, a head bowing against his shoulder. He stared at the blue strands. He stared and stared, and then he cracked open, pulling Yusaku closer and letting himself weep, vocal cords cut and eyes unseeing, unresponsive as the first waves hit him. And Yusaku stayed, drawing out rough circles on his back, grasping at his shoulder blades and muttering unheard words against his throat, the warmth almost unbearable. Yusaku's hair traced absent, meaningless patterns over his skin, and each one was committed to memory as if he could crystallize this fleeting reality -- a small and precious span of time that was being driven towards obscurity, towards oblivion. 

"You’re okay," was what he heard at first, the sensory input reaching him garbled. He leaned further against Yusaku, inhaling even though it was unnecessary, even though the new sensations just buried him even further. 

"I love you," he finally muttered, the body cooperating enough to manifest tears, dripping down his face and marking Yusaku's shirt, a dark constellation over the grey fabric. He barely registered the pause, and then Yusaku was whispering the answer against his neck, calm as if Yusaku had repeated it a thousand times before this as a one-sided confession. 

"I love you, Ai."

\---

Evidently, Ai noted, with some humor, that Yusaku wasn’t exactly _ practiced _ at comforting a somewhat-hysterical AI, the weeping progressing to full-body shakes and big, slurry messes of words that, _ wow _, were kind of embarrassing. Ai prided himself on his wit and charming demeanor, and both were, well, sort of ruined, a too-stiff Yusaku eventually leading the SOLtiS to the ratty couch and taking a seat next to it, his hand on its bare knee. Without words, Yusaku waited again, green eyes wide and pure. 

At this proximity, the resonance between himself and Yusaku was undeniable, like chimes ringing again and again inside of him, the notes all beautiful and clear. 

“These expertly rendered tears are made with Real Solid Vision, by the way,” Ai stated, the vocalizer’s range limited, after another span of time passed. At the slight tilt of Yusaku’s head, he continued, gesturing with one hand. “With the new regulations, passing myself off as a SOLtiS would mean restricting my features and movements too much, so I had no choice but to aim for a human instead. ‘Course, dealing with all those...fluids seemed a bit…” Wisely, at the raise of Yusaku’s eyebrows, Ai decided to just drop _ that _ subject. “So, I instead expanded on the system used for old-school duel disks and then applied it to this body, which I customized myself. The SOLtiS also regulates itself to simulate average human temperature, scent, _ et cetera _.”

Some praise would have been nice, but, no, he wasn’t getting it yet, not with a mini-frown like that from his dear partner. “This kind of technology is a risk. If someone notices that you’re not human, then they could contact the authorities about a breach of the new SOLtiS regulations.”

Oh. Okay, maybe that praise would come next, and Ai felt himself flash a winning smile, a finger raised for emphasis. “Aw, it’s cute you’d worry so much, Yusaku-chan, but,” he added quickly, observing how Yusaku had leaned forward, the determination bared, “let’s just say that I’ve made...certain arrangements.”

“What arrangements?”

Calculating as always, and Ai paused, letting the attention soak in for a moment. Yes, he had missed this. Deeply. Soul-deep.

“Well, I may have a chip embedded in my wrist that declares my wondrous body to be a top-secret prototype created by SOL Technologies in collaboration with a certain government organization, and I may _ also _ have a transmitter sending scrambled ‘test data’ to a certain server located within a certain SOL-owned facility… So, if nothing else, I’m making it a _ little _hard for bad guys to get their greasy fingers all over my precious self. I worked hard on this body, you know.”

“Let me get this straight,” Yusaku said, deadpan. The praise was further delayed, not that Ai minded _ too _much. “You’re pretending to be a SOLtiS that is pretending to be a human.”

“Correct, my dear, and all with the correct data trail. Neat, r-Ai-ght?”

A pause, and then Yusaku sighed, amusement darting through his eyes. “It’s a plan that suits you, if nothing else.”

“...Is that a compliment?”

Another pause, and then Yusaku sighed again. “Why not. You can take it as one.”

“Ah, _ yes _,” Ai declared, sagging against the couch and kicking out his legs, and the wink was flirtatious, Yusaku’s tiny flinch making a weird, twisting kind of satisfaction flood his system. “I couldn’t let myself be hauled off to robot jail before I made my grand reappearance.”

Left unsaid was that Ai had _ almost _ abandoned the whole plan in the hallway outside Yusaku’s apartment, because, well, the possible end of the world and death of his partner _ was _more than intimidating, but-

But something intangible had shifted in the air, and this magnetic pull was too strong, Yusaku within reach.

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” Yusaku began, and when he leaned back, Ai dared to throw an arm around his shoulders. For a beat, Yusaku tensed, and then it was perfect, their angles locking together, Yusaku’s soft hair spilling to the side as he turned his head. “But you don't have to deal with these precautions alone."

Chuckling, Ai gave a wry reply, the sight of Yusaku an indulgence that he was taking, completely. Sensors registered the faint heat from Yusaku’s body. Memory systems hid away fragments of data, capturing the faint changes of his wonderful eyes.

“Now, now… While I _ am _ brilliant, I’m not so arrogant that I’d ignore how dangerous my existence still is. What I’ve done up to now is the bare _ minimum _not to get caught. You recognize that just as much as I do.”

“Stop that,” Yusaku muttered back, sinking further into the contact and, just like that, taking more and more of Ai with him. “I’ll show you the value of bonds. I’ll use them to protect you and to change that future you hate so much, I promise.”

“...If you really want to try, I’ll-”

“I want you, Ai.”

Ai felt the spinning mechanics inside his head stutter and break their perfected, optimal patterns when Yusaku suddenly moved forward and kissed him, the first slide of those chapped lips over his own a shock, a burst of stimuli that left him stunned and wide-eyed, surrendering to Yusaku’s lead for a brittle moment. And then Ai kissed back, parting the smooth lips of the SOLtiS, letting Yusaku’s breath wash over him and change him, sparking new sensations, new heats. Short-nailed fingers clenched in his black shirt, and when he smoothed a hand over Yusaku’s chest, _ there _ was the flutter-beat of his heart, a rhythm that made Ai surge forward, deepening the kiss. Unthinking, he raised the sensory inputs, catching the ragged, trailing end of that _ sound _Yusaku had made -- never heard before. A curiosity prompted Ai to make it happen again.

He succeeded, and it was sweet, enough to make him want to drown in it. He had Yusaku’s back against the couch -- those short, shallow breaths made against Ai’s waiting lips in the gaps between crushing, hot kisses that dragged and dragged, because Ai was a quick learner and, damn, if there was ever a test for his genius, then it was this. Love poured into his actions. It made him purr when Yusaku stroked his hair, curling those brilliant, swift fingers in the golden-dark strands, and Ai took his partner’s mouth again and again, fixated on every reaction, every response.

Yusaku deserved only the best. Below the hardened exterior, he had a pure heart, and he felt life so deeply, all of its colours preserved. He ran his shaking, gentle hands over Ai’s bared neck, each pass of Yusaku’s skin over his like a brand, marking him as taken. 

Leaving might be impossible. 

The SOLtiS diamond originally in the hollow of his throat had been removed, to aid in his disguise, and that’s where Yusaku’s hand went next, the pressure light but not hesitant. This was something analytical. Something serious, like Yusaku was mapping him with those clever fingers, bending them to press more firmly, straightening them to run over a smooth plane of sensitive skin. At first, Ai had foolishly pushed the capabilities of the SOLtiS, doing things just because he _ could _, just to exercise control, and it left him with a reactive, adaptive body, prioritized to take inputs from the environment and then sort them, adjusting their respective weights.

Now, transfixed by Yusaku, Ai could feel so much, almost _ too _much, and he was beyond greedy, taking all of it, taking the next hitched breath from Yusaku, registering the rise in heat. More. More, more.

Yusaku’s fingers traveled higher, and they gripped his hair hard when Ai -- enraptured by the shudders of Yusaku’s chest, of the flush traveling over his face, a darker pink blooming on his parted, slick lips -- went down again, the kiss _ different _. Harder, faster. Yusaku moved against him, all heat.

And then it stopped, Yusaku’s palm flat over his artificial heart, its synthetic motions unceasing, governed by operational schematics that still, somehow, _ worked _ despite Ai losing himself, the tidal wave receding slowly, and, uh, _ wow _. Okay. Yusaku, blushing until his ears and underneath Ai, the legs of the SOLtiS two brackets over Yusaku’s hips. Yusaku, blushing even more.

Oh.

_ Oh _.

That cherry-blossom pink was something else, especially paired with the radiant green of those irises, containing galaxies of unexplored detail -- the small pinpricks of brighter green like unnamed stars.

“Hey, I think you took my first kiss,” Ai rasped out, a wolfish grin spreading over his features and- Yusaku was turning red, cherry red, and he squirmed a little, too minor for any human to notice but, oh oh. Ai was no human, and the angle went higher, baring his straight teeth. “My, my… Playmaker, I wonder if you’ve considered the consequences of making an AI like myself very, _ very _ curious. I have some, ah, _ protocols _I’d like to test out, if you don’t mind…”

“You’re the worst,” Yusaku muttered, and he shoved a laughing Ai off, still blushing after Ai had righted himself and then forced himself to put on a guilt-inducing pout. Well, it should have been guilt-inducing. Yusaku was immune somehow, his arms crossed. His hair, Ai noted with some pride, was far, _ far _more of a mess than before. “Distractions...are probably not a good idea for either of us. There’s still a lot we need to discuss, since I don’t want misunderstandings between us, not with a task as serious as this.”

“What, you mean protecting me from tech-hungry groups while also coming up with a plan to improve human-AI relations? You know, the thing that a mastermind like Lightning couldn’t solve?”

“Yes, that.” Yusaku had responded immediately, but it was not careless, and Ai’s smile became wider and, well, stupider. His human could be so charming.

“Hmm, well,” Ai began, dropping his voice and sliding a hand up Yusaku’s thigh, earning him a flinch and a look of pure judgement that, damn, _ really _only encouraged him. Yusaku’s eyes had narrowed. “If that’s the case, how about we try to improve human-AI relations right now?”

“Your memory is malfunctioning,” was the dry response, and Ai, pouting again, dramatically fell over, his head strategically ending up in Yusaku’s lap. Yes, he was a genius in his own right, the observation confirmed when a steady head ended up in his hair again, and, vaguely, he knew something was off with the sensitivity settings, because such a simple action _ really _shouldn’t have made the entire SOLtiS rumble with satisfaction. But, hey, he’d fix it. Later.

And, so, hours passed -- the SOLtiS a big, content pile of composite plastic-metal running on its lowest power settings and prioritizing the steady rumble of Yusaku’s voice and the _ beyond _ amazing circles that he traced against the many curls, Ai happy to spend an eternity bathing in the open affection. The discussion started with the customized SOLtiS, and Yusaku listened as Ai explained why he had needed _ that _prototype in particular and detailed how he had gathered materials, outfitted it, and then directed it several thousand kilometers from a top-secret facility to Den City, a ‘test run’ for his security systems, all while Yusaku had continued to melt him down with those smooth motions, circles after circles. In turn, Yusaku had went on what was, by his usually clipped standards, a surprisingly long rant about his new work-study program, as if he had forgotten that he was actually speaking and not thinking through the many tangled relationships and obligations, and Ai only spoke enough to keep him going, to support him.

“Must be a rich company, since this apartment has, like, actual walls.”

Yusaku poked him, a warning. “I was originally going to work for the university’s technology office, but apparently SOL Technologies contacted my department and...made an arrangement. The apartment is a part of that, since the company owns this building.”

“...Huh. Seems like quite the commitment.”

A quiet huff, although Yusaku wasn’t angry at all. More like a thinking sound, indicative of the many, many variables being considered. “For the record, Zaizen-san wasn’t involved in any of this.”

“You must’ve had a good application then, or maybe it was that oh-so charming personality of yours. Either way, congrats, Yusaku-chan.”

“I’m not going to continue with SOL Technologies.”

“...What?”

Yusaku repeated it, the motions of his hands unceasing, and had Ai _ not _ been a big, purring puddle of an AI, he _ might _have said more. As it was, he blinked up at his human, the features fuzzy from his low settings. “I’m not going to continue with SOL Technologies. Working there, it doesn’t fit me. I’ve already requested a change.”

“If they’re being jerks to you, I can find their mainframe and, I dunno, wreck it. Might be fun. In small doses, revenge _ can _be fun, right?”

A bit stronger this time, Yusaku poked him. “The employees would disagree with you.”

“_ Well _, if those employees were also jerks to you, then-”

“That never happened,” Yusaku said, his voice even. His fingers curled in, parsing strands of thick hair. “I’m trying to connect more with other people, and the structure of that company is too...rigid for that. I want to improve myself in a certain way.” And then -- as he rounded a particularly _ amazing _circle, Ai letting a small groan escape the SOLtiS -- Yusaku added, “I thought you would’ve learned about this already.”

“Uhh….” Fingers. Fingers, good. And, wow, okay, Ai needed to focus, winding down the sensitivity. “Was that a reference to my long and colourful history of spying on you?”

“Yes.”

Smirking, Ai shrugged, and Yusaku just stared at him, spread fingers finishing another circle and shifting into the next one. “If it makes you feel any better, there’s a spycam next to the plant.”

“...Why would that make me feel better?”

“Hey, it’s evidence that some rogue program hasn’t taken me over. Only a one-hundred-percent real Ai would do that.”

And he heard it when Yusaku laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Let me guess. You can’t explain why you did that.”

“Well, I _ can _ ,” Ai protested, weakly because those settings were _ not _low enough, Yusaku exercising his Yusaku powers to draw out another purr, vibrations traveling down the SOLtiS from that sublime point of contact. “I totally can, and I’m definitely not lying right now, so… Yeah.”

“That confirms you’re really Ai,” Yusaku stated, the fondness making him exponentially more of a threat to Ai’s somewhat-functioning mind, the effect _ devastating _coupled with even more strokes and- Oh, damn. Ai would definitely lose every future argument if Yusaku used those Yusaku hair-petting powers. Definitely.

Not fair.

He shook himself, blinking wildly. 

“Uh, not to sound controlling or anything, but I kinda-sorta hope you realized that _ before _our big makeout session.”

In response, Yusaku poked him again. 

\---

The human world was laced with contradictions, some integral to supporting society in its present state, stratified and inefficient as it was. Changes to its structure were proposed regularly, usually by those most affected by its many disparities, and enacting those changes involved many individuals, the relationships between some tentative and strained, prone to breaking down. Or, at least, those were Ai’s observations, gleaned from the ebbs and flows of the data such humans generated. 

Although, being critical of human society did not, by default, mean failing in his mission. It did not mean that he had tarnished the meaning of his very name. Ai -- to love people.

That process started with his Origin. Because he loved Yusaku. 

He loved the minutiae of Yusaku, of how Yusaku would lose track of time working on a project, his fingers dancing over the keyboard while his features ticked through such subtle expressions, each with its own meaning. He loved how Yusaku constructed his arguments, considering different perspectives without distorting his own sense of justice, the words impactful and strong, precise. He loved how Yusaku loved the Cyberse cards, a faint glow of pride warming Ai each and every time Yusaku mentioned the deck or sorted through it, his touch startlingly gentle over the portraits. He loved how Yusaku looked at him, seeing through the sculpted features and into his true self, fragmented and hurt as it was.

And, yes, he did think of leaving.

He had thought of it more than he wanted to admit, the exponential growth a sign of his own desperation, of his many, many fears that compounded, that festered and swarmed, and Yusaku _ had _to know because he scolded Ai over and over again, tiny marks of disappointment on that beautiful face. One week into Ai laying around the apartment and idly starting fights on internet forums (the greatest human passtime, he had discovered), Yusaku had suddenly stood up from his laptop, crossed the room, and then said with full, devastating eye contact, “Ai, I believe in you. Please, don’t forget that.”

And so, just like that, Ai stayed.

The sometimes-constant thoughts were a challenge, but, well, he _ did _have Playmaker in his corner, and that counted for a lot. Everything, actually.

He could also observe Yusaku’s own journey, as his Origin tried to be social with his fellow classmates, even joining a club without Shima-levels of outside encouragement. It revolved around team code-breaking challenges, and while Ai _ highly _suspected that Yusaku could have coded in proverbial circles around the leader, Yusaku remained far, far more restrained than Ai would have, only offering advice when it seemed necessary. “People grow in unique ways,” was Yusaku’s rationale, and, dimly, Ai had recognized when Yusaku’s own commenting practices evolved, his code intersected with bursts of guiding text not intended for himself, hinting at the possibility of collaboration. 

It was, in Ai’s not-humble opinion, really, really cute.

Even cuter, if Ai _ had _ to rank the incidents, was how Yusaku sometimes tagged along on the club’s game nights, and he eventually let Ai come along, after a pretty exhaustive list of things to _ not _say or brag about. The nights seemed like an excuse for roleplaying games and drinking copious amounts of coffee, compensation for the late hours. 

Through some intense modifications to the SOLtiS’s chest cavity, Ai, a master engineer, had gained the capacity to drink approximately one litre of fluids before experiencing, ah, _ difficulties _ , the kind that flashed up with big, colourful warning messages. Although, during said modifications, he had _ definitely _surprised a tired after-class Yusaku with the sight of his disemboweled body, a single arm still functional and systematically shoving the ‘organs’ back in, a new rib-like metal bracket accounting for the fluids system. In summary, whoops. It probably wouldn’t happen again.

Well, probably.

To some extent, Ai had been a _ little _worried of dear, dear Yusaku-chan pushing himself too hard with this ‘becoming more social’ project, but after meeting the others, introducing himself as ‘Yusaku-chan’s roommate’ and earning a tired sigh from his left, Ai realized that he had been a bit silly, because Yusaku still acted like Yusaku -- quiet, contemplative. Introspective. Intense but always meaning well, his kindness radiant.

Ai was also _ incredibly _ pleased to hear, with the SOLtiS’s above-human capabilities, two of the team members refer to him as ‘Fujiki-kun’s seriously handsome roommate,’ which, hey. Flattery. Flattery was _ good _.

“I’m thinking of becoming a model.”

“Yesterday you wanted to be a barista,” Yusaku mumbled at his side, which _ was _ true -- Ai had decided that he would look positively delicious in an apron, and Yusaku, revealing a _ lot _, hadn't argued about that. 

Their destination was the bus station followed by home, which was a thing and not an abstract concept. With the assistance of a stunningly beautiful moving crew (read: Ai, carrier of couches and sealer of boxes), Yusaku was back in that crumbling little flat, and although Ai would have liked the experience of a gilded penthouse in some marvelous, high-tech tower, the familiar surroundings had their own charm, layered by so many memories. Yusaku had also traded up for a larger bed, which Ai appreciated. Vocally. Extensively. 

Now, Yusaku looked up at him, the green shuttered by the passing shadows, sparked with the orange of streetlights. 

“Those shorts are ridiculous, by the way.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘exquisite’.”

"Sato-kun said it's like you got into a fight with a fabric store and lost.”

“What?! When?”

“...You’re really not as observant as you think you are.”

"Lies and hearsay," Ai declared, and Yusaku turned away again, a smile ghosting across his lips. Near-invisible. A flicker that Ai would've missed, had he not being staring so hard, entranced. He was the one who smiled next, wide and indulgent. "I mean, with legs like _ these _, it's always shorts weather."

"That doesn't mean you have to wear those shorts in particular."

Yusaku's logic, as per usual, was too good, and Ai made a show of sulking the remainder of the way home, lights in white and red cutting up the expanse of the encroaching night. The surrounding couples, tired and swaying as the bus rolled on, leaned against each other, a mutual comfort, and so Ai went for it, even though it was different to sulk with one of Yusaku's hands clasped with his own, their fingers locking together -- that living warmth from Yusaku reaching into him, changing him little by little.

When they were inside, Yusaku dropped his keys, wallet, and phone on the desk, Plant resting on the corner, the butterfly camera turned to face the wall. Fatigue dulled the vivid greens of his eyes, and so Ai took him to bed, easy flirtations falling from his lips as he walked backwards, testing the buttons on Yusaku's shirt, working off the too-stiff belt. And he watched everything, bound to the way Yusaku leaned into the contact, the banter fading into a silence undercut only by the soft rustle of fabric and the faint, steady draw of Yusaku's breathing.

And below the sheets, the lights out, Ai held him close, and he listened as those breaths drew out -- deeper and deeper, Yusaku a line of warmth against his chest. Their legs tangled. The simulations of the SOLtiS synchronized with the rise and fall of Yusaku's chest, and slowly Ai brushed the hair back from Yusaku's closed eyes, letting his systems shift into maintenance. Analyses continued to run in the background. The gentle, mechanical hum was from the interior of his chest, delicate components whirling faster before they steadied themselves, and-

Dulled by sleep, Yusaku's movements were clumsy, endearing, and Ai let himself be pulled even closer -- Yusaku's head buried in his chest, loose hands behind his back and brushing over his shoulder blades. With a reverent touch, Ai pushed back his hair again, watching as the strands parted. 

And, slowly, wrapped in the warmth of this night, Ai understood what it meant to be alive. 

\---


End file.
